


Broken Shield

by hibiren



Series: Jay's Gladnis Collection [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blind Ignis Scientia, Blood and Injury, Burns, Catharsis, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Episode Ignis DLC, Feels, Gladnis, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical, Medical Procedures, Nausea, One Shot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, basically he gets it as bad as in the alternate ending but with the outcome of the true ending, consider it my gladnis-fueled take on "what happened after the true ending credits", graphic depictions of injury, me being disappointed in the ending means I write my own take on it LOL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 04:11:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19143322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibiren/pseuds/hibiren
Summary: "Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was destiny. But whatever it was, Gladio never wanted to feel that afraid for either of them ever again. He was honestly terrified, even more so to admit it."





	Broken Shield

**Author's Note:**

> I'd had this idea for so long but never ended up writing it until now, I wonder if I'm not the only person to have this idea especially given the glimpses of the ending we got in Episode Ignis... I wanted to write my own because I just need more gladnis in my life hhhhh

Ignis barely moved when Gladio gently laid him atop the freshly-made hotel bed. He didn’t care that he was likely staining the top sheet with blood and caked dirt. Ignis was far more important than any stupid bed.

 _“Go find a damn doctor,”_ Gladio hissed, seething, at Prompto while gesturing toward the door behind them. Prompto barely took a second before darting out of the room. A frantic shuffling sound echoed through the half-open door as he nearly tripped on the carpet, tearing down the hall to find someone who could hopefully - _hopefully_ \- help.

An angry sigh left Gladio as he half-settled down on the adjacent empty bed, staring into his hands as they clenched and unclenched into shaking fists.

“Ignis… Iggy,” whispered Gladio, barely even able to bring himself to look at him. “We should have been there sooner. I’m so _sorry.”_

Ignis moaned, a faint gasp escaping through his barely-parted lips. Immediately, Gladio was at his side, hand gently cradling his neck to monitor his wavering heartbeat. He had no idea what happened, but, from the looks of the scarring flesh and the band branded into his finger, it wasn’t something he’d recover from easily. Not without help.

His eye looked especially gruesome. It was as if some kind of flame consumed the flesh from the inside outward, leaving still-scorching marks burned in jagged grooves. The air around him still held a faint scent of smoke and death, lingering heavy like smog, leaving the room blanketed in a choking nausea. But Gladio didn’t care because he was still here, still alive. Ignis looked bad - but how bad was it? How many more scars did his tattered clothes keep hidden?

Gritting his teeth, Gladio set to work slowly slipping each button on Ignis’ shirt loose. Ignis let out a few hushed, intermittent whines; a pitiful noise, slight exhales of pain that struck Gladio like hammer blows.

“It’s okay, Iggy, you’re… you’re safe now. I need to take a look at the damage… alright? There’s a doctor on the way, but… I’ll see if I can help in the meantime.”

As he expected he was met with silence but he waited nonetheless, giving Ignis’ scorched hand a gentle touch before continuing.

It was bad. From his neck, the ragged burnscars carved down his body like a lightning strike, swollen red and black and still simmering, glowing faintly like dying coals. This wasn’t something any ordinary doctor - or _any_ doctor - could hope to fix. It almost looked like some kind of otherworldly curse. One word ran through Gladio’s mind as he continued inspecting, gingerly peeling Ignis’ shirt aside and out of the way to reveal more and more damage -

_Why?_

_Why…?_

There was nothing Gladio could do. It seemed like Ignis would ultimately have to get through the worst of it on his own, but Gladio would be damned if he wasn’t going to try to help in some way. He couldn’t let Ignis go through this alone as well. Whoever Prompto dragged back with him was going to get an earful if they couldn’t at least bring something to clean Ignis’ wounds and to alleviate his pain.

Ignis laid there, exposed chest heaving as he struggled to breathe, the wounds scattered across his skin looking ready to reopen at any second. All Gladio could do was watch helplessly as he writhed and twisted uncomfortably against the bed, no doubt in pain beyond his comprehension. Ignis’ hands took fistfuls of the sheets and gripped tight, leaving his splintering skin splitting open even more, angry and red and leaking fresh blood.

“Hey… Ignis… look at me, please.” It took everything he had, and he still could barely hold back the stinging tears that threatened to spill over. As carefully as he could, he took Ignis’ less-damaged hand between his palms and held it gently. “...Ignis…”

It was then that Ignis turned his head toward the sound of Gladio’s voice, opening his unwounded eye just slightly. Something was wrong. Something wasn’t right. His eye was...

“...Gladiolus? Where…”

“You’re safe. You’re… really hurt, but you’re safe.”

“...Noct?”

Gladio scowled, but turned his head. “He’ll… he’ll be okay.”

Ignis sighed, fractionally relieved, just a slight hint of the tension in his body leaving at the mention of the Prince’s condition. In all honesty, he had left Noctis to Prompto, so he had no idea how he was faring. In the moments before, out there, he felt pulled toward Ignis - an unexplainable force stronger than anything he’d felt in a long time.

Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was destiny. But whatever it was, he never wanted to feel that afraid for either of them ever again. He was honestly terrified, even more so to admit it.

The hand in Gladio’s faltered for a moment, but reached out and groped at the air as if searching, fighting to grasp something close to the Shield. But what?

“Be careful, please,” Gladio chided, and he felt his throat tighten up, barely able to force the words out past the volume of a whisper. He was losing himself. He couldn’t, not now. Some time later, in private, would be better… “Prompto’s coming back with the doctor soon. He better be…”

Ignis winced, and winced again as his face contorted against the scarring flesh.

He hadn’t even noticed that Prompto had returned until the man he brought with him cleared his throat and introduced himself. One look at Ignis on the bed was all it took for him to know everything that Gladio had assumed, and feared, was right.

“You _better_ help him however you _fucking_ can, or I’ll send you back to the goddamn hospital in _pieces.”_ He was livid, furious, ready to destroy anything that got in his way… how could he keep himself in check when someone so close to him was suffering so much?

“R-Right, yes, of course, I brought what I could. Let me see what I can do.”

The man set to work after somehow coaxing Gladio’s grip loose from his shirt, and Prompto’s face blanched when he realized exactly what the doctor was setting up to do. The whole hallway echoed shortly after with the sounds of Ignis’ agonized screaming, resonating against the wood and lingering, haunting, reverberating into itself… Prompto had to excuse himself from the room not long after that, clutching his stomach, unable to stay.

Gladio forced himself to stay, moving to the other side of the bed and giving Ignis his hand. The grip that met his own was surprisingly strong, intermittently tightening whenever a particularly painful gash was brushed with antiseptic. He would hear these screams in his nightmares and forever, burned into his mind like the wounds in Ignis’ skin…

It felt like hours, although to Ignis, Gladio was sure it felt like an eternity. His voice grew hoarse from crying out, leaving him only gasping, somehow fighting to choke any noise back as if deep down there was some semblance of his former self left that stubbornly insisted on pretending he wasn’t in as much pain as he felt. Somehow he’d stayed awake through the whole process which made Gladio feel worse for having to witness it.

He waited until the doctor was finished, bandages wrapped, some unpronounceable pain medication administered, and couldn’t have been happier to shove the man out of the room and lock the door behind him. He huffed as he returned to Ignis’ side, a fresh wave of guilt hitting when he realized how little of Ignis there was left under all that gauze. Unsurprisingly, and thankfully, Ignis had slipped into a weary dream - yet that left Gladio uncomfortably alone with his thoughts as everything came flooding back to him.

He stood, went to the door, but couldn’t open it. He was stuck, pulled back toward Ignis but wanting to run as far away as possible. Eventually he sunk against the door and collapsed into the wall, letting the tears he’d been holding back flow free. He wanted, more than anything, to just take his hands to the wall until he bruised, but he couldn’t even bring himself to do more than barely raise his hand to swipe hot tears away. It was so damn hard, bringing Ignis out of everything just to subject him to more pain… in a way he felt as if he’d inflicted the damage himself.

The sobs left him silently, save for a few quiet, wordless, garbled exclamations that left him without his consent. He broke, fully, thankful he didn’t have to keep up his facade for Ignis - or anyone - and he could let out all the emotions he’d had fighting, clawing their way free.

A hesitant knock at the door allowed him enough time to wipe his reddened eyes before reaching up to click the lock open. Prompto stuck his head inside the cracked door and when he caught sight of Gladio collapsed in the corner, he frowned.

“Hey, you… probably should get your wounds checked out before the doctor leaves. I’ll stay with Iggy. ‘Kay?”

“...Fine…” What he really wanted to say was, _what’s the fucking point?_ and _I don’t need the damn doctor_ and so many other things, but all that he could manage was a grumble of acknowledgment and a half-hearted nod.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. He was used to ignoring his own pain for the sake of others to the point that it came as second nature, happened without his willing it. At least, he could speak that way for physical pain. Emotional pain was another battle entirely. And he was testing his limits here as it was. Maybe he was throwing himself an undeserved pity party, maybe not - but he knew that in that moment, he was weak. Weak and exhausted and pushed far past his usual boundaries. He’d be lucky if he managed to make it down the hall without passing out from the sheer intensity of the whirling in his head.

A sense of numbness overtook Gladio’s body as he stood, left Ignis with Prompto, and sauntered unsteadily down the hall to find the doctor - who rightfully looked nervous to be anywhere near him. The glare the doctor earned wasn’t nearly as vicious as he wished it was as he plopped down into an empty seat in the hall next to the weary man.

“You gonna fix me up or what? Make it quick… I don’t have all day.”

“Mr. Argentum did request I see you before checking on…” he fell silent and Gladio didn’t need to ask why. “Yes. I should be quick.”

The occasional stinging from the antiseptic lingered on his skin against the bandages and gauze taped to his skin. It was just unpleasant enough to remind him that he was still alive, and that Ignis was waiting for him, but in much worse condition. He had no right to complain. Gladio was lucky the worst of his injuries didn’t even need stitches.

A curt thank-you directed at the doctor, and then Gladio immediately set back down the hall to Ignis’ room. Prompto stood by the bedside, eyes shining with worry. Ignis - thank gods - was still breathing, still there.

“He holding up okay?” asked Gladio, closing the door as quietly as he could manage.

Prompto almost jumped, and Gladio realized only after he put it down that Prompto had his pistol with him. It seemed they were both a bit out of it - Gladio wasn’t alone. Everyone was on edge.

“Y-Yeah. He’s… holding up okay.” Prompto glanced at Ignis, then at his hands, and then at Gladio.

The bed Prompto sat back against creaked as Gladio joined him, sending an uncomfortable grating through the otherwise silent room.

“And… you?” Gladio asked after a long pause.

After glancing away, Prompto frowned but managed an “I’m fine” in answer. Gladio didn’t question him.

“How’s Noct?”

“Hasn’t woken up yet… but he’s okay. I… I think.”

Gladio reached over, offering what comfort he could in an awkward grip on Prompto’s trembling shoulder. “You should go sit with him. Make sure he’ll be safe when he wakes up. I’ll stay with Iggy. I… I don’t think Noct would want to see my face first thing, I’m sure he’d rather it be you.”

“Huh.” Prompto fiddled with the torn edge of his glove as he struggled to find words. “I… I’ll go stay with him. But… we probably should wait until Iggy’s awake to tell him what we found. It’d probably be better coming from him. He… knows what happened after all. We still don’t.”

“Right.” Silence filled the room again but Gladio added, “You should go stay with Noct, and get some rest. I think we all need some rest.”

Prompto nodded and stood, his steps falling somewhat heavy as he walked toward the door. “Just… hang in there, alright? We’ve… had a long day. Especially…” He never finished his thought, but instead chose to close his lips tightly and duck out of the room, the door clicking softly back into place as it closed.

_We’ve had a long day, alright..._

Watching Ignis sleep left him feeling only fractionally more comfortable, his own weariness threatening to settle in his sore, waning-adrenaline ache. He pushed himself to stay awake but the bed he sat against seemed to speak otherwise - soon he had his head against the pillow, body turned still toward the tactician, and watched as he dreamed, unmoving, but his face appearing visibly more relaxed than it had before. He had to keep Ignis safe, he had to keep everyone safe… it was his job. He understood that better than ever now.

Whatever happened next, they would have to face together. It would be difficult, but they had no choice. Ignis didn’t deserve to be wounded so badly, but he knew that whatever Ignis had done, he did it for Noctis’ sake. Gladio wished, deep within himself, that he could be that selfless.

There was only one thing on his mind right now.

When Ignis woke up, recovered, Gladio would have something important to tell him. No more waiting, even if it was a little bit selfish of him to say it. Whether or not Ignis would agree… his dreams left him to imagine that, as he fell without realizing into an uncomfortable slumber. No matter what his job brought, he knew his heart would only belong to Ignis, and no amount of internal fighting would change that. He knew, without Ignis, nothing mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> let Gladio cry 2k19 (we need moooooooooooore) I apologize for all the angst but I needed to get some good emotional hurt-comfort out right now and I'm still trying to keep up with a little writing every day!


End file.
